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It had been a simple matter to sneak out of the class room. As this 'Amissa' introduced herself, Shinai was focused on her alone. All she had to do was slip out the open door while the class was distracted. She wasn't completely sure why she was compelled to.

Maybe it was the girl? She seemed familiar. Or maybe it was Shinai's sudden change in personality. Or reversion is more like it. He was more like his old self. He seemed... happy. And clean. Either way, something in the pit of her stomach knew that she had to follow him. Intuition. Reporter's Intuition!... or Snoop's Intuition, but she preferred to think it was the first.

Soon after Shinai walked out of the room, Liza's cover was almost blown, by a large shout from none other than Jerk Pants. Just got back and already making things difficult for her... typical. But Shinai didn't turn around to face the insult, he simply sighed, and kept going, the new girl at his side completely silent.

“Mas- I mean, Shinai. That man seems to think little of you. Does this bother you?” The girl was the first to speak up. Her voice was monotonous, something Liza tried not to think much of, given her own habit of not displaying how she felt.

“No. I think I... deserved it.” Shinai admitted, begrudgingly. 'Well, put that one down in the record books.' Liza though, 'Shinai admitting he's wrong... hmm... although, I barely know the guy. Maybe he's not as conceited as I thought.'

Her targets were regrettably quiet the whole trip back to the student council room. Liza followed them the entire way until the door closed behind them, locking her out of the hunt. She was left with almost nothing to show for it. Save for a sentence each. Maybe if she put her ear to the door, she could still eavesdrop on them.

Yes. She could hear bits of the conversation. It seemed that Shinai was talking...

“How's your eye? Are you going to be alright?”

“Yes. The surgery was well done enough... It will take time, but it should make a full recovery eventually.”

“Good... it's a delicate thing to work with. And nerve wracking at that. I'm sorry for any pain it might have caused you.”

“Do not worry. I felt nothing. I was not active at the time. Neither was sh-”

Liza had heard enough. There was nothing here. Just a bit of chatter between the two. She felt disappointed, but it happens. Not everything was a big secret.

The meeting would likely be over by the time she got back to the classroom. She should probably just get back to class.

“Eh?”

Turning around, Liza spotted something shining on the ground. Making sure no one else was around, she tip toed over to it and clicked it open.

“Well... damn.” Inside the right side was a picture of Amissa. No... not Amissa. The little inscription on the left said “Assua”. But they looked almost identical. Amissa's hair was a bit longer, and she was unnaturally thin, but there was no denying the similarities.

“Where is it!? It was in my pocket a second ago!”

Shinai was yelling from the student council room. Sounds of things being tossed every which way could be heard clearly. Liza closed the locket and placed it back on the ground. It was best they never know she was there. She had been right all along. Something was fishy here. Who was this girl? Who was Assua? She looked familiar... maybe someone from her old school? Before Bellow High? She'd need a resource for it.

Liza began to walk to class, ignoring the sounds of someone walking out of the room behind her and picking up the locket and returning without a word.

She had an old year book at home. She'd go and check it out this afternoon, see if she could find out something. But that was far across town, she'd need someone to come with her...

Randy Clopin
Quarterman streets
5:00 PM – Nov. 1, 2011

Jones finally broke up the meeting halfway into the 'club' conversation. He had a class to teach coming up, and he couldn't hold everyone up longer than he had anyway. He wrote a couple notes to excuse them, and told them to meet at the stadium tonight. They'd finish this there.

-

The rest of the day flew by quickly. School didn't seem to be such a problem anymore... with what it had to be compared to. Randy himself was itching to get out of here and spend some time with Phil, Ned and the rest of the band. They hadn't done anything to remind him that he was still a teenager in such a long time. He needed this. He needed something that was... normal. For him at least. And going to go get something snazzy and fail at writing meaningful lyrics was about as normal for him as it would get.

He didn't get the chance though. He was drafted. Drafted by a little girl into helping her get home for something he didn't really care about.

“This is your problem now too, dude. Don't worry, we'll wait for you. We'll bring Izzy and Snow to the shop to get some ideas down until you get back.
“Yeah, what Phil said!”

Randy sighed at the thought. He didn't expect to be sold out by his friends so easily. Why were they so insistent he help Liza? It was just to get a year book...

WARNING!GM is prone to going for the throat. Poke at own risk. Continued poking or complaining in his presence may result in serious character injury or death. You have been warned.

"Well," said Joshua, licking some tomato sauce off his finger, "Was I right, or was I right?"

"Don't get cocky now sweetie, it's unbecoming. But yes, that was the worst film I have ever seen."

"And that's why I love it," he sighed contentedly. The movie in question was The Room, starring the supposed talent of Tommy Wiseau, a man whose bizarre accent and lack of any form of skill whatsoever had catapulted his film to high esteem in the eyes of Joshua Sands. He considered it to be his second favourite film of all time. He had originally suggested his favourite film, Le fabuleux déstin d'Amélie Poulain when Ciara asked for him to pick something from Netflix, but she had no desire to watch a French film... No matter how charming it was. And the pizza had been delicious too. All in all, the afternoon had been pretty perfect so far. Not the most extravagant way to spend one's 18th birthday, but a comfortable one.

"You missed some sauce, by the way."

"Where?"

"Corner of your mouth. Let me..." This was surprising - Ciara so rarely offered to do something for someone else, but nonetheless, she pulled out a small handkerchief, and rubbed away the small red stain beside his lip. God forbid she did it with her bare thumb. Still, her hand lingered, just a fraction of a second more than necessary. Just enough to let him know something was off here. Joshua was seeing a more vulnerable side to Ciara today. Was it all due to her encounter with her Shadow? He felt a pang of sympathy for her. He considered the brutal lectures that Shadow had handed out to the likes of him and Mana and wondered what she could possibly have said to Ciara herself. It was probably even worse, and he felt bad that he'd let his affect him so when his hadn't been even close to the full extent.

Wow, I'm an insensitive jerk...

Her hand dropped, and she averted his gaze just for a second. Maybe the sherry had gotten to her a little more than she'd originally thought. She was feeling slightly light-headed, even if enough time had passed for her to come down a little bit. Her face was still a little red too. Dutch courage still fuelling her, she spoke up, in a subdued tone. "Joshua..."

Bzzt, bzzzzzt. Of all the timing in the world, her phone had to go off now?! "Ugh, one second..."

Jones knows about the Court. Wulfgard told us all a lot of stuff about what happened all those years ago. Jones wants to meet us tonight at 10.30 - I'll fill you and Josh in then. Hope you two are having a lovely time! ;) She bit her lip. Interesting text from Miyuki - what could Wulfgard have said? How did Jones find out about everything? Was he in the Court himself now? She showed Joshua the text, and he was having pretty much the same thoughts.

"I have a bad feeling about this Ciara."

Last edited by Son_of_Shadows; 25th October 2012 at 4:49 PM.

Originally Posted by scytherdude30
no no no you need an empoleon as your powerhouse da listen to me man I AM THE BOMB

Originally Posted by Zincspider

Yes, someone is getting 'killed'... HOORAY FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!....

B.E.A.S.T; an after-school that dealt with dangerous Shadows. It was wild and sounded like an animal; the perfect cover for ducking
any suspicious faculty members who wanted to dig a little deeper. Lace agreed and went over future scenarios in her head fighting with the others as the name went around and the class was dismissed. Wulfgard didn't give her any feedback about the coming Fall Festival, and she really wanted to get involved.

Lace, leaning against the wall in the hallway had an empty-look staring at posters, fliers, and on-going activities for the school. She blinked back at Shinai who retreated with Amissa in one of the rooms down the hall. Her eyes were locked on the door as she backed off and creeped over to the room. A notice to the left of his room told Lace about the school's Student Council group. Student Council sounded like a group of kids who ran the school all day. From what they were having for lunch, when they'd go on field-trips, school uniform policies, these guys knew everyone! And they get to wear jackets!

The idea of a brand-new jacket with the school's branding on it drapped over her shoulder's filled Lace with energy. She hurriedly dug in her pocket for a permanent-marker and signed her name over the notice, before giving three sound knocks and letting herself in Shinai's office. He looked like he had nothing but free time.

Lace was fully in the room and facing Shinai when she knocked on the door a couple times again behind her. "Hello!"

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Can you hear me?" she paused. "Are you busy?... Hmmm."

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She finished, and grinning, closed the door with her heel before she was in his face. "My name's Lace Condor, and I want to be a part of Student Council. I promise I'll work hard and clean up after myself!" Her hand, wide-open, stretched out to shake his.

On Army-Training Leave:

I'll be gone from Serebii/Internet from Sept 10th - Dec 15/16th. If you want to contact me, send a PM by the first of September. Coolio!

After making sure that Lace was okay with meeting up later (she seemed to have her mind preoccupied with other thoughts anyhow), Snow found Izzy and told him that he was going to go switch bags back at the dorm. So Randy wanted to try writing something original. Snow still felt worried about them finding out how not amateur (un-amateur? In-amateur? What kind of word did it need?) he was with music, even if they knew how serious he could be. But, it was to help his friends. He ought to do what he could. He grabbed his laptop and put it in its travel case, made sure it had the right wires and speakers, then took it and his guitar to go meet back up with the band.

He came back to the school to meet up with the others, only Randy wasn't there with him. Phil and Ned said that it was 'no biggie' and that Randy would catch up with them later. Shrugging and trusting them, he and the others walked over to where they usually practiced.

Once there, Snow set up his computer. “I've written music before and this is the program that I use,” he explained to the others as he waited on it to be ready. “We can put in the parts manually, but I've also got a cord to hook some instruments directly into it and it'll record what's played. The keyboard at least could be connected.”

The program's starting image took over the screen, a fanciful scroll of various notes around the edges. Then it brought up a dashboard with the tools he used a lot arranged around the main work area. “Whoa, that looks really complicated,” Phil said, leaning in near Snow.

“Oh, it's pretty simple, but the program can do a lot,” he said, not bothered by him. Of course, the reason it could do so much was that it was for serious composers like his mother who worked with a lot of instruments and other elements. But it could be used for simpler pieces too. Snow looked over the screen, sending some tools into hiding as he thought over what a rock song sounded like. “Here, we can start with the beat since that's the backbone... what do you want?”

Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 648/718 Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh complete!

Liza's home reminded Randy of Izzy's. Large and intimidating. Having lived in an apartment most of his life, he was a bit scared to be looking up at the white walls. Liza had to type in a code to get in without alarms going off. Hell, the place had a garden. With bushes shaped like things! Looking back at the garden, Randy actually started to pick up on a few of the shapes. A heart, a diamond... they were card suits. Clubs, spades, diamonds, and hearts. The guy must be really into his hobby.

“And your mom approves?”

“It's how they met.”

“Tell me why I'm here again?”

Liza ignored Randy and walked up to the door. Raising a tiny fist, she knocked a few times, ignoring the doorbell.

Suddenly, Randy began to feel nervous. Why? His palms were getting sweaty, and shivers were crawling down his spine, like so many frigid snakes. He didn't know these people, and here he was following their daughter, for a reason he didn't even know. But he didn't have much time to worry about it at least. The door swung open within a couple seconds.

“Liza!” Mr. Munroe had answered the door... or at least that's who Randy assumed it was. He certainly hoped it wasn't Mrs. Munroe. Unlike his daughter, Mr. Munroe was quite the tall man, having a few inches over Randy. He shared Liza's dusky skin tone, but his hair was pitch black. She must get hers from her mother. Hair slicked back flat, and a small pencil mustache, Mr. Munroe seemed to be quite sharp. A wide grin, long thin nose, and wily eyes gave Randy the impression of a sleek jungle predator, confident in his every move. Mr. Munroe, smoothed his velvet robe and bent down to give his daughter a hug. “It's been too long! I missed you, baby.”

“ ...s'been a week, dad...” Liza said, her words muffled from being forced into her dads chest. She didn't resist though and in fact hugged him back before waiting for her father to release her himself.

“And who's this?” The man asked, looking directly at Randy.

Randy clammed up. Which was a big deal for him. He was never lost for words. But here he was, sputtering like a madman. To which Liza's father only grinned.

“Oh, I get it...”

“Dad, this is Randy. He's part of my club at school. We need my yearbook for our current story, so he came along.” Liza explained, covering for him perfectly. “Don't make a big thing about it.”

“Aw, you're no fun, kiddo.”

“I'm going to go upstairs and get the book. ” Liza stated, walking past her father and into the house.

“Well then, Randy, please come in. I insist. No doubt she'll be a while. Women, am I right?” Mr. Munroe stood back and held out his arm showing Randy the way in. Reluctant to go in, but left with very few options, Randy slowly walked into the Munroe household. He felt like he'd walked into an old Vincent Price film. The floor of the den was a hard, varnished dark wood, lit only by a lively fire, all electric lights having been turned off. A stone staircase to the right of the room led to the upper floors, and was probably were Liza was headed. A large tiger skin rug was laid out in front of the fire place, next to several large arm chairs with matching side tables. Mr. Munroe walked over to the closest and picked a large smoking pipe off the table. Looking back at Randy he lit the pipe and went to take a puff.

“You don't mind do you? Liza hates the smell. One of the only good things about her being out of the house really...”

Randy nodded and took in the rest of the room. It was pretty big for a living room. There wasn't a TV though. Instead, there was a large card table, complete with green felt and a dealer's seat.

“Fortune favors the bold, my boy! And the bold favor fortune! But please, call me Roger. Not my name, but I like the sound of it.”

Randy didn't bother asking him what his real name was, but he decided it probably wouldn't get him too far.

“Please take a seat, boy, might as well chat until she get's down. No point in standing around and sweating, really.”

Randy attempted a nervous laugh, and shuffled to the chair across from 'Roger', hoping to stay as far as possible, unfortunately, all this did was put him directly in the man's line of sight.
Unable to think of anything to say for a few seconds, Mr. Munroe broke the silence, leaning in towards Randy smiling.

“I know what you two are doing at night.”

Randy turned white. How did this guy know about the Court? How did he know that he and Liza were in it? Did Liza tell him? He thought she could keep a better secret. Deciding that it might be a bluff, Randy tried to play it safe.

“I... uh... don't know what you're talking about.”

'Roger' wasn't buying it.

“Oh, come now. I was a boy your age at one point too. I went through the same thing.”

Holy crap. Now Randy was interested. Only Wulfgard was a vet as far as he knew. Now that he thought about it, it was possible that Wulfgard's group wasn't the only one to exist. Maybe not all of the Court goers had found each other... JP sure seemed to think that Shinai was in the Court. It was definitely possible.

“No way.” Losing his nervousness, he leaned towards Mr. Munroe, all ears. “What'd you do about it?”

Laughing, Mr. Munroe, tapped out his pipe and put it aside.

“The same thing as you, I reckon. To be honest I was worried about her... especially in the past few months with all the... you know. Anyway, I assume you're using protection?”

Well... no. Wulfgard hadn't taught them anything about fighting with real armor yet. Just basic cloth. It wasn't like there was a metal worker nearby to fit them with their own sets of platemail.

“No, not really. I guess I didn't think it was necessary.”

“GREAT SCOTT, BOY! Hasn't your father ever talked to you about this kind of thing?” Mr. Munroe shouted, much more surprised than Randy thought he would be. Although this caught Randy off guard as well.

“MY FATHER WENT THROUGH THIS TOO?”

“Boy, we need to have a talk. It's about the birds and bees, if you will.”

Shinai Haitani
Student Council Room
Nov. 1st 2011- After School

Oh dear. She'd clean up? What was that supposed to mean?

Shinai was staring down one of the most wild girls he'd ever seen. Messy red hair and a manic expression... completely caught him off guard. Just when he was about to put away the student files he'd been studying... although this girl was familiar. Lace. Lace Codor. He'd just finished looking up her record. Nothing terribly bad. She was caught for running in the halls a few times in the past week, but that was only temporary. He threw out the warnings just now in fact.

“Clean up?” He vocalized his question, and took a large sniff. 'Oh dear... oh lord. She smells like burnt sugar. Like... badly burnt. I can't even think sentences good right now. Must get her out of the office.' He recoiled back to his desk and picked up one of the remaining application forms. A lot of people signed up for student council assuming they would get out of class. But that wasn't quite true. Shinai just finished his work early and asked for permission to leave class to perform his duties. Other members have to give time after school. That being said, their membership was actually sorely lacking... something he hadn't really thought about or cared about for some time now.

“Oh, umm... right. If you'd like to join student Council, uh, here.” He handed one of the forms to Lace. “Just fill this out, get a parent or guardian to sign it, and bring it back as soon as you can. The jacket is the only thing you should have to pay for, but anything else will be optional, sure as field trips and the like... just, please take this. And go.”

Shinai had a feeling she wouldn't. He was glad Amissa wasn't attempting to interrupt though. He didn't want her having to insert herself in the middle of this.

Liza Munroe
Her Room
Nov. 1st 2011, Afternoon

Her room was just how she left it. It was the smallest room in the house, but that's how she wanted it. All of her books were on a large shelf, her computer was off on it's desk, and her bed was still made with the pink sheets from the last time she visited.
Before attending to the yearbook, however, she had one thing to attend to. Her jacket. It smelled. Ever since Randy insisted on grabbing her last night, it smelled like his sweat... and there was no better time to change than now.
Walking to her closet, she pulled out her only remaining jacket. It was the same make as her current one, but a light blue instead. Quickly, so she didn't have to dwell on her own body for long, she flipped off her black and white best friend and slipped on the new one.

“A little more snug than I would have hoped...” She lamented, walking back to the shelf, tying to take her mind off of her current train of thought.

It took longer than she thought to find the book. It was so plain, she had to scan the whole shelf at least three times before scouting out the poorly printed book. She was so glad she didn't have a part in making this book. Their color choices were horrible.

She didn't get a chance to crack it open though. Without even a knock, her door swung open.

“Randy! Knock first!” She shouted, embarrassed she hadn't kept the door locked. What if he had followed her in earlier?

“No time. We have to leave now. I've made a terrible mistake.” Randy huffed and puffed. Liza could tell he was holding something in his hand, but it didn't bother her as much as his claims.

“Why? What'd you do?” She asked, a bit of amusement rising to break the monotone of her voice. Randy raised his hand to show her was he was holding, in order to save breath. Her face grew red quicker than she thought possible. In his hand was a small square plastic package, with a circle bulging out in it.

“We're leaving. Now. And we're never coming back. Ever.”

WARNING!GM is prone to going for the throat. Poke at own risk. Continued poking or complaining in his presence may result in serious character injury or death. You have been warned.

The “Vampire Shinai” topic seemed to be quickly derailing into a veritable debate on the feasibility of vampirism as an actual thing. This was... unexpected, but so much refreshing.

JP had been dreading the moment of his inevitable return with every day that passed, and the longer he postponed it the worst he felt about it. He felt like he’d make the ambient turn awkward, dark and intrusive. He’d always imagined everyone just circling him and showering him with questions on his absence and... Terri’s death.

But this was the exact opposite. Everyone went on with the conversation with such casualness, such light heartedness that it felt like JP had never even been gone at all. Everything was silly and normal, and that was beyond perfect for him. He felt like he was part of the group, again, and for the first time in these two months he truly felt just how much he missed them.

And then Sigmund threw him something. JP grabbed it with a precise and swift motion and noted just what it was – a piece of candy. It made him smile a bit and, more importantly, the little sweet further alleviated any residual stress JP might yet be carrying. Truly, it was like these two months apart hadn't even happened at all.

"Ah, the undead accuses the undead," Mana murmured. "Yo. Welcome back to the land of the living. I'm all for burning the witch, by the way, but maybe you could explain how you know our creepy student council prez has been in the Court the whole time."

“I missed you too, honey. Tell you what, I’ll tell you all about my one night stand with Shinai next time you’re free. I hear you’ve developed a taste for tea and biscuits recently?”

JP waited a moment before proceeding.
“Don’t look at me like that. And next time, try not to have a tea party in the middle of the dorm. And the bunny ears last night didn’t help. Do you know how many guys I caught checking you out this morning in class?”

Sigmund cut in.

"But Lace is right - we kinda need a cover now. Maybe we could pass as a club that we haven't already got. We've already got half the training to be something like historic re-enactors, like at a Renaissance fair. And yeah, while we're on it, it's been long enough that we need a name. All I've got is BEAST - Bellow's Extracurricular Anti-Shadow Team? I dunno, anybody got ideas?"

Making the court-squad into some sort of extracurricular club? Friggin’ sweet! That’s, like, the coolest thing to come up with ever. Like this whole “study by day, fight monsters by night” thing wasn’t awesome enough, adding in a secret school club with super powers totally made him feel like the hero of a shonen anime. That, and his late nights, his truancies and the general lack of willpower to study meant his grades were getting the shaft. An extra club couldn’t hurt.

“Well, if we want to make it official, we should probably make the name make some sense. Let me think for a bit... I like the B.E.A.S.T. acronym, but we kinda need to change the “Shadow” part of it, at least, to something else.”

JP put his hand to his chin and walked around slowly for a bit. Apparently kinetic motion seemed to aid his brain’s though process. No wonder he got lower grades in everything than PE.

“Got it!” he exclaimed as he punched his own palm. “Bellow’s Extracurricular Abnormality Student Trackers”!”

"I would like to reaffirm my support for the Bestest, Incrediblest, Greatest Team of Impeccable Terminators of Shadows, courtesy of our very own Commander Sofiya. B.I.G.T.I.T.S. for short."

Besides an encouraging fist-bump from Randy, the conversation didn't get very far beyond more suggestions from JP1 and Mana2, the conversation in Mr. Jones' room didn't last very long - it seemed like just as they were getting somewhere with their discussion, Mr. Jones was issuing hall passes and half-punting them back to class. Where was his sense of team-building? Probably ranked below his sense of being a teacher. Which he could understand if, y'know, there weren't more important things going on every night. He shouldn't be worried, anyway - as far as he knew, everyone was at least keeping their heads above water with their classwork. Besides, his mind was stuck on the Court now, anyways, not Ms. Halls' lectures.

Speaking of which, Sigmund thought while doodling on the back of his past History homework3, Mr. Jones hadn't really answered anything, though he was the one that called them in, and over the intercom at that. In fact, he had just provided new questions, such as: when the deuce did Jones get in on this? It couldn't have been that long ago, if he was already acting authoritative on the subject, but why hadn't he joined up with them sooner? Between him and Wulfgard, they made it seem like the students couldn't be trusted to be kept in the know. Despite the fact that they were allowed to fight in it... ugh. His thoughts about this stuff never got very deep, only frustrating. Annoyed, he shifted his focus to the board, where Ms. Halls was writing out something in Trigonometric, a language which he also found frustrating and not something about which he could think deeply.

Useless as they were to him now, Sigmund took notes down, anyway, in case they made themselves useful later when trying to translate this week's assignment. Having started paying attention to the lecture so late in had convinced him to forfeit any attempt at further understanding whatever the teacher was saying, so he instead took to drawing a hilariously bad sketch of Hua Po between his bouts of scribbling down jumbles of letters and numbers. More than once, he felt a lock of hair fall to the side or over his forehead when jumping his attention between the two sheets and the board and he'd have to push it back up into place. Hmm... maybe it was finally time for a haircut? Except he had to work out early, get stuff done for classes, make dinner, wash the... cat...

Eh, why not. As the bell rang, most of the people he knew more of than their name seemed to have places to be. Might as well join the crowd. Heaving his bag over his shoulder, Sigmund loosened his tie just a bit and popped the top button of his shirt, finally giving his neck some breathing space. Then, weaving carefully through the crowds until he reached the outside of the school, Sigmund flipped open his blocky phone and scrolled down to a familiar number. It took several rings, but the receiver picked it up sure enough - just like her, that.

"Yeah, hi! It's me. Say, you free, like, now?"

Lin Residence, North Quarterman [Thursday, After School]

Everything about Mei Lin was very neat and tidy. The house in which she lived, for example, reminded Sigmund of a display case - very clean and orderly, and there were many pleasant things to look at, but Lord help you should you knock anything over. This feeling prevailed all the way out to what Sigmund had long suspected to be the world's cleanest garage, where he almost felt guilty for not having a rack on which to store his bicycle4. Before he could even begin to worry about what to do with it, he found himself already being ushered inside by his host, so he figured that it wasn't really worth the thought.

The two had grown up seeing each other several times per week, but having not seen her nearly so frequently since May made it more apparent how well-kept Mei was. She wasn't physically impressive, more small than anything in all respects, but she had a knack for making herself catch the eye nonetheless, from her simple-but-attractive wardrobe to the elaborate bun she had tied her soft black hair in for the day, complete with a flower tucked in the folds5. In fact, that ability was the very reason why he had come in the first place - he'd provoked Mei into giving him his current haircut as a snap decision on entering high school, but the look was increasingly ill-suited to him. Now was about time for a change of pace. After all, everything else about his life seemed to be upset over the last few months.

Mei wasn't one for much conversation, and when she did speak it was so soft and timid that her voice could get lost in the very air, so their talking was kept to a relative minimum - just the quick, short exchange of "How are the others?" and "fine," which lasted them to the kitchen. There, he seated himself in a familiar chair and set his glasses on the table while Mei fiddled with the visible television in the parlor until she landed on an animated movie, a near-future film noir. She had made a habit of this ever since she had started cutting his hair for him in middle school, not that it was ever really to either of their benefit - her focus would inevitably be elsewhere and his eyes would be shut for most of the affair, but it didn't make for entirely unwelcome background noise, so he never made a fuss about it.

"Yeah, just... down to a normal short cut," he reiterated as Mei draped a towel around his shoulders. He heard a muffled noise and shuffling from behind, which he took to be a nod from her. Given that he, as a guy, knew squat about hair styling and she had more than a bit of experience in these matters, the entire process worked better with him only providing a general guideline. As such, the idle time while she worked was frequently filled with equally idle conversation, but not today. Sigmund's mind was still racing, but it had now jumped tracks to last night's events. For the third time since hearing Wulfgard's diagnosis, his thoughts treaded back over last night's events - in particular, his own shadow and how it had so thoroughly evaded him. He'd at least feel better if he had been able to give the damn thing a good punch to the face. Instead, the whole thing had blown up in his face in about three different ways, and even that was better than-

"Is something wrong?"

Upturned from his thoughts, Sigmund let loose the grip he wasn't even aware that he had tightened on the chair. Easing his expression, he attempted to explain. "Yeah, It's nothing. Well, it's not nothing. More like, something -" he sputtered out early, practically able to hear Mei **** her head half to the side in curiosity - and would it really hurt to indulge her? She was quiet enough to listen, and mild enough not to go around spreading stories - the worst she could do was not be able to help at all, which is what she was basically doing now. Obviously he'd have to mask certain details, but it was worth a shot, he supposed.

"So, I'm in this club at the new school," he started, using the cover-up already in place. "Except the high-up guys don't think that we're worth funding. Like, we were going to be cut off and not even be a club anymore unless we downsized. A couple of us wanted to just lay off the late-joiners, and the rest of us wanted to stand our ground and risk the whole thing going down. I wanted to cut our losses, but we lost out in the end. Somehow, it turned out all right, though. It was more of luck than anything - one of the teachers bailed us out and we're still a club and everything, but if I had my way, we would've lost a good chunk of our members. A couple of the younger guys walked out right there, too. So, I'm kinda responsible for that. I mean, I was just trying to save what I could, but I couldn't even do that." By the end, he had gained so much momentum that his story had devolved into a series of half-truths only resembling the real situation. Mei seemed to understand well enough, though, and after a moment of pensive silence, said very simply,

"Hŕo* zhěng* yǐ* xiá.6 You thought it right - no one can ask more."

"Wish it were that simple," he admitted. Her point held true enough, he supposed. But his best wasn't enough. Other people had to pick up the slack from his bad call. And that didn't change the fact that Clarise was stuck in a coma in the hospital, probably permanently if they couldn't wheedle out an endgame. For all his physicality, he sucked at the other half of the Court that they spent out-witting the shadows, and that was what always ended up putting them in real straits. So maybe he should just let the others make the big decisions and stick to hitting things? Even that hadn't worked - he had spent most of the encounter with Ciara's shadow standing around stupidly. But even that they had gotten out of pretty okay. So maybe Mei was right - that strategy, unwittingly employed, had gotten them though other tough spots before now. Why tense up now and send the whole operation crashing? The crease of his mouth eased just a touch.

"Well, guess it's worth a go."

Mei giggled softly to herself. "Glad I could help."

"Heh, with my little problems or my head-scruff?"

She giggled again at his jab, but this laugh ended in a sharp, high-pitched breath, provoking Sigmund to demand, "What was that?"

"Ah... nothing!"

"Don't sound like nothing," he countered, shedding the towel and grabbing at a mirror. At first glance, nothing seemed out of order. It was actually a pretty good job, all things considered - his hair was down to an even quarter-inch throughout, and those "cooler-than-you" dreadlocks gone. His head looked a bit bigger by comparison now, but overall it wasn't a bad look. A false alarm, then? He almost thought so, but as he shifted the mirror, he caught sight of a horizontal notch his hairline, just at the upper-right corner of his temple. The spot had been shaved entirely bare and just large enough to notice, but it had at least come off clean, and it did pretty much follow the rest of his cut well enough. Looked a little B.A., even. He had definitely seen worse mistakes.

"Um, I can even that out..." Mei tried apologizing. Sigmund just waved one of his hands dismissively.

"Eh, nah. Gives it character," he declared, borrowing one of his father's favorite phrases. "So, now that's done - what next?"

As usual, it turned out that Sigmund hadn't thought things all the way through, and ended up getting all the way to the shop counter before remembering that the sun was still up. So, instead he mostly ended up some of his safer stories from recent months with Mei, who in turn brought him up to speed on the recent happenings at his old school - which were admittedly few in number - and sipped at a strawberry malt. They parted when they had finished, and the sun was just setting as Sigmund parked his bike outside and strolled into the dorms.

The first thing he did upon entering the door was make a bee-line for the kitchen, tossing a greeting at the nearby Halberd and helping himself a mug8 of whatever was in the tea kettle. Biking all the way back from the malt shop had only served to remind him that he hadn't eaten at all since the previous evening, and now he was bordering on ravenous. Looking for something - anything - to eat, he pulled bag of rice from the cupboard where he had stashed it and started boiling a pot of water. And in the meantime, while he was waiting on that... he dove into the fridge and produced a pair of apples. The first was gone in seconds. As he started on the second one, he found himself growing impatient. Figuring that the rice would get hot and cook no matter when he added it, he simply dumped most of a pound of rice into the pot and tossed the bag back in the pantry.

"So, how's the biz?" he asked, turning around to face the others and starting on his second apple. Then, between bites, he continued, "Plans for the weekend? Anyone?"

1 Who suggested a more discrete acronym be used for BEAST, which was an pretty smart idea.2 Who was encouraging Sofiya's standing suggestion, which was totally not a smart idea.3 Something about the Prussian Empire, of which he mostly remembered that it wasn't really related to Russia despite its name.4 Luckily, Mei happened to live about halfway between Bellow High and Quarterman North High, making it squarely within biking distance.5 Which, while out of season, didn't look out of place on her.6 "Be calm amidst chaos." - Chinese idiom77 Though Sigmund didn't know that.8 He had resigned himself to using his sister's cat mug ever since his first attempt at tea-making went awry (see POP).

OOC: Why am I even bothering to post here? After all, I'm still busy and my last post was completely ignored. I think I like this RPG too much, that's what. And it's been over a month since my last post.
IC:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Halberd
Bellow High Racquetball Court, Afternoon

Earlier that afternoon, the main thing on Halberd's mind was the discussion that took place among his fellow Court-goers--or BEAST members, rather--during lunchtime. It was one of the very few times when he found himself unable to pay much attention in his physics class. Instead, his eyes had wandered all over the classroom, as if hoping to spot something that could be a clue as to what caused the Court of Miracles to appear. This entire mission seemed much like a treasure hunt to him now. Only problem was, he didn't quite know what he was looking for.

But all those thoughts finally managed to leave Halberd's mind after school, when the school's fencing club had their "make-up" meeting since they couldn't meet yesterday. Nevertheless, he still seemed a bit more distant than usual at this meeting, mainly checking to make sure everyone had proper protection and good aim with their swords, and occasionally advising some of the newbies to pull out when the action started to get too fierce. Although, every time he saw two fencers salute each other before a match, he briefly thought of Scathach, his Persona in the Court, and of the new tradition he made of saluting to her as well before fencing someone. He acknowledged this, feeling glad that she would be at his side once again tonight.

Towards the end of the club meeting, Bernard, the club president, arranged for a talk with everyone. Some of the fencers, especially those that weren't in Bernard's special cult, rolled their eyes--they knew that perfect-looking blondie was probably going to boast his past achievements again. But no--this time it was actually a bit different.

"So! As you already know," Bernard announced to everyone, "there is a tournament coming up on Friday at ten o-clock over at the community centre. I have recently received word that the members of this club are welcome to enter. This applies to all of you--if you are confident in your (often lousy) fencing skills, feel free to accept this form to sign up." He withdrew a paper-laden clipboard from the cabinet he was standing in front of. "I will be entering of course, and Bill and Jonathan and Cat are attending too." He looked around at his fellow seniors in the club, smiling at the tall and somewhat-pretty girl announced last. "And so is Hell Bird--I mean, Bryan. Sorry. What did you call yourself again?"

"I thought I made it clear last time, that there's no way I will have time for the tournament."

"Oh yes, that's right," Bernard replied, rubbing his chin. "You said you had 'other important stuff' to do that night. You don't have a date, do you? If you want to pretend to be so dedicated to this club, then you really have to sort out your priorities. This is your first tournament, correct?"

Halberd slowly nodded his head in response. Bernard was right--this was going to be his first official fencing tournament, and he had known about it for a couple of weeks now. Initially he had been excited about it, but the thought had been pushed out of his mind every time the damn Court of Miracles happened. Especially since he didn't want to participate in the tournament and then rush back to school for the Court directly afterward.

"And besides," Bernard continued, "I'd be very pleased if I could get a chance to officially have a duel with you during the tournament. I've been looking forward to it ever since after the first club meeting this year."

"I really wish I could enter," Halberd stated, looking down at the floor. "But..." and here he heaved a sigh, "...I'll have to wait until the next one."

"Next one's not until March, dude," Bernard told him. "And I cannot guarantee that we'll be able to enter that one. We're just high school kids after all, you know."

"And the other people in the tournaments are not super-well-known professionals either," Halberd said flatly, as he slipped off his fencing jacket and folded it up inside his oversized duffel bag. "Well, guess I'll be seeing you."

* * *Bellow High Dorms, Late Afternoon

Even when he was safely back inside the common room, Halberd still felt embarrassed about that talk at the end of the club meeting, and a wee bit depressed overall. What a mess this had all been this year. There was no way he would have imagined his senior year in high school to be this difficult. Especially with the Court of Miracles going on. He even wondered why he was so fixated on this Court. It just seemed so elusive to him, still... he just couldn't understand what it was all about. By his standards, it still defied all sense and reason and all the laws of physics. He even wondered if his perfectly logical plan of searching the school by day to find clues about the Court would get anyone anywhere.

For several minutes Halberd sat there on the sofa with his face in his hands. "What am I going to do?" he muttered to himself.

With a sigh, he sat up and leaned against the back of the sofa. Then he took a quick glance over his shoulder.

I am going to make some tea, he thought. In a quite-possibly-futile attempt to rid these concerns from his mind, he stood up and headed over to the sink, where he filled a tea kettle. He kind of wanted to take a nap soon as well, but possibly as a result of having an adopted brother who was British, he was always rather fond of tea in the late afternoon, and didn't want to give it up. So he simply made it decaf this time. And he made enough so that he could offer some to any of his fellow Court-goers passing by. And certainly none of Bernard's friends from the fencing club. He thanked the deity of his non-existent faith that Bernard himself didn't live in the dorms.

OOC: I'm half-asleep while writing this. I can be held accountable for nothing. Also have fun JP.

-----------

Sofiya Mikhailovna Ignatova
Testa Jones' Classroom
Afternoon

Sofiya couldn’t hear any of the questions asked after hers. Her mind was racing and her heart beating so fast she started to wonder if it was possible for organs to pop out if overloaded enough – something she definitely had to test later on with her Privates. Without noticing, she had placed a hand on her chest, intent on pushing her heart back in case it tried to escape. She was holding her breath too, eyes fixed on their teacher and begging him to hurry up. She wanted to know. Relief or despair, she didn’t even care, she just had to know.

Their sensei opened his mouth, and Sofiya shut her eyes.

“They gradually woke up. People who had it longer took a few weeks to snap out of it, while a couple of the newer victims snapped back right away. They didn't remember anything about the Court or where they got sick. No adverse affects, mental ones at least, were discovered. They returned to their daily lives soon after.”

They returned to their daily lives.

They returned.
They lived.

Sofiya slumped down in her seat, an indescribable feeling of relief overtaking her in seconds. It hit her like a wave, sort of similar to the one that had hit her when she had tried to rescue her cellphone from their family's washing machine by smashing the frontglass. Except this wave wasn’t wet, and there were no shards stuck in people’s feet for days to come. But still.

She would have cried, but she still didn’t feel comfortable showing tears near others, be they from joy or sorrow. Especially not after displaying anger the night before. She didn’t want people to think of her as unstable or whimsical, or even moody. And yet, Sofiya couldn’t bring herself to smile, either. She couldn’t really… do anything but sit there and stare blankly in front of her, in such a bliss that she didn’t even notice JP jumping in through the window. Which… might have been good, in a sense. Her first reaction upon seeing an unidentifiable creature climbing into a room straight next to her would have probably been to… to push the unidentifiable creature out of the room. Out of the window. Down on the street. Until he went splat.

Even Shinai’s appearance with a girl Sofiya didn’t know wasn’t enough to shake the Russian back to reality. She did momentarily wonder who the girl was and why did Shinai look healthier than before, but in the end Sofiya was too filled with hope to have any stronger reactions or theories regarding the matter. All she could think of was that if Terri and Clarise – two high school girls who faced monsters and nearly died – could pull through with certainty, then surely Pyotr had to recover eventually as well? He was a tough soldier, at least ten years older and he wasn’t done in by supernatural creepies.

Yes, somewhere inside Sofiya did realize that his brother and the two Apathy syndrome patients weren’t connected. She knew that one surviving didn’t mean the other would. But she was quick to convince her otherwise, quick to grab onto the first sign of hope and not let go no matter how much common sense fought back. She had overcome all common sense before, multiple times. She could do it again and again as many times as was needed to keep herself from going crazy over worry. To keep herself from giving up.

What finally shook her from her trance was the sudden talk about vampires setting off her easily piqued interest. From what she gathered, Shinai was a vampire? Except he couldn’t be, because of the way blood con… uh, gratulated, and… Sofiya decided it hurt her brain to try and understand half of the things being said, so she just went with the firm belief that Shinai was a vampire. It would explain why he didn’t want to bake bunnies too; after all, vampires ate blood. Well, now that she knew that, she could be better prepared for next time~! His vampirism didn’t really scare her either, after all, hadn’t they fought much stranger things in the past? Besides, if Shinai was a vampire, he had to know Santa. It was Sofiya’s firmest belief that all magical creatures knew other and held parties. Maybe he could even arrange a meeting with the Easter Bunny!

… Wait. Sofiya’s face grew pale. Oh no, that was it. The Easter Bunny was… a bunny, so by suggesting bunny baking she had… actually suggested they’d cook one of his friends.

Sofiya slapped her hand on her forehead both audibly and theatrically, leaving a red hand mark to remind all those within her presence of her sudden epiphany. D’oh, how could she be that stupid?! She must’ve scared the poor guy out of his wits. She’d be very scared too if someone came to her with the suggestion that they should eat Sig or something!

Having completely lost herself in her own little world and worries, Sofiya once again missed some of the things going on. She did catch that there would be a festival and that they would need to participate as a group – great, they hadn’t done anything together but fight up until now! –, that JP called Mana “honey” – aww, they really were a couple – and that they really needed to settle for a name now. Both B.E.A.S.T and B.I.G.T.I.T.S. seemed to have support, and that actually made Sofiya face with quite the dilemma; obviously, Bigtits was the better choice, because she had been told everyone loved tits, and so the bigger, the more loved right? Right. But at the same time, she didn’t want to insult Sig by telling him that his suggestion was… silly. Nobody liked beasts! They fought and killed beasts! So maybe a combination of the two could fix the issue? B.E.A.S.T.L.Y.T.I.T.S.? She kinda liked the sound of it.

Hallway
Just after the meeting

The meeting was over far before Sofiya could actually come up with proper meanings for the initials however, and so she decided to leave that idea to rest for now. She had far more urgent business to take care of.

Practically jumping up from her seat to exit with the rest of the cast, Sofiya set her sights on the Portuguese man. She took a moment to study him carefully, making sure there were no bruises, cuts or other general injuries present anywhere. There wasn’t. He seemed fine, thank god! And he had actually joined heir company out of his own free will again, even if Sofiya wasn’t sure how – she had completely missed the window scene after all. But the most important question of all was; was JP alright inwardly? He didn’t seem to be frowning or particularly sad – in fact, he seemed like he had been enjoying himself back there. But was that real? Or was it… just a mask?

Just like hers?

Oh, and she needed to ask whether JP’d prefer her cutting off his parts or Mana’s. One of them had to make the sacrifice. For love. And science. But mostly for love.

“JP!” Sofiya called, this time pronouncing the guy’s name right, albeit still with an accent. She walked up to him, fixing her bag and suddenly remembering she had something to show the guy. So, having forgotten all about her intentions of asking whether he was alright, Sofiya started to rummage through her bag until her hand hit the familiar, velvet surface of her album. She yoinked it out and gleefully offered it up to the boy.

“Here, look, look!” She exclaimed, enthusiastic as could be and swinging her arms around at dangerous speeds. “I took pictures of Mana this Halloween! Well, um, Commander did, but that’s kinda me, so basically it was me! He was so cuuute, and, and I thought that since you two are in love, you’d like them…? Oh and, that reminded me, I’m ready to help you two um…”

To be honest, she wasn’t sure how to phrase the offer.

“To... get rid of… parts if they bother you~!" She finally managed to say, all smiles. "I mean, you can’t both have the same parts right, that’s difficult! So I have scissors, and a knife, and ohhh, I’m sure my father could lend me a shotgun! It’ll be fun! It could double as target practice!”

She let show one of her sweetest and, considering the situation, creepiest smiles before adding, not too reassuringly: “I’m sort of rusty with my aim, you see!”

"I am not a bad man
Even though I do bad things
Very bad things
Such horrible things"

Most everyone gather there Russell assume the ones that didn’t show up were playing hooky after their three shadow self death match. The group that was here talked among themselves until Mr. Jones decided he should go on before the end of lunch break. Pulling up the map on the wall reveal words one in particular was the most notice was the three at the very top: Court of Miracles. How did he know that; knowing about it wasn’t surprising part but he got the name. Russell first experience in it he thought he was in the twilight zone or it was mess up circus act.

The teacher began going through things that he heard first about rumors in the start of the school year that he ignored himself. Then the disappearance of someone; hearing about the person seem to get some of the people attention that was there before him. The following made the redhead cringed as the memory of his first court flash in his head; the sight of someone he seen before dying… he still had nightmares about it. Then he went into the big point which was he was dragged into the court last night yet another person force into this… It seems like you either die, get Apathy Syndrome or you get to live through the ‘wonders’ of the Court until the latter two happens. How many more people have to be pulled into this mess?

“My goal is simple children, and I'd like to discuss it with you. I want to know what the Court of Miracles is, why it exists, and how it operates. I want to know what a shadow is, and what their purposes are. And most of all, I want to know why we're all still alive. So, would anyone like to speak first? Tell me what you know about the Court.”

No one really got the chance to say anything as Randy spoke up not phased about what the teacher just mention. He disagreed with the older boy’s comment about shadow just wanting to kill them… If that was so what was with all the jumping through hoops instead of just doing it. They could have easily done it instead of putting them in a room and telling them to stab themselves. Or have them run through a mirror maze like some lab rats… It seemed Liza also thought that… When did she get here? Without that dark purple hair, his eyes couldn’t catch her well. Mr. Wulfgard entered and the normal quiet barely says anything girl got up thrust what looked like a book into the man’s hand and Russell could have sworn she was… blackmailing him. The school pharmacist see all but happy but he began to tell them a story.

The story was about him back when he used to but a kid like them going to this very school and his first time in the court; before the fourteen year old was even born. The story sounded much like their; them fighting and losing people in their struggle to survive. But the end only a handful of them was left before they discovered the court source. When they tried to get rid of it by destroying the school one of their group, Mr. Wulfgard’s good friend, decided he didn’t want it to end and try to stop them. In the end of the story the court had ended but everyone but Wulfgard had died… Unable to help the people he cared about and having to continue living on, it must be hard. Now with the rebuilding of the school the Court of Miracles starts all over and he again had to suffer through it.

From there people began asking questions like what happened to the people before that got Apathy syndrome. But most talked about entering the school and trying to find the source of the Court. Lace seemed to get rather upset with Mr. Wulgard for keeping this a secret from them. Sigmund also wanted to know why he waited so long to tell them about it. The freshman could understand that hesitation seeing just tell them now they looked ready to go rushing in there. But what were they suppose to do then, when would they be good enough to enter there, do they keep fighting and hope they will be strong enough before they die? Those were the questions floating in his head he wanted to ask but didn’t want to appear as afraid as he really was or pessimistic. JP entered through the window, there was someone he hadn’t seen in months not that he was looking for him much. His grudge against him was still there but the only words of ‘Terri’ calm the short teen angry. Then face he hadn’t seen in awhile, Student Council President Shinai along with another girl he had never seen before.

After his visit their subject changed to the fall festival, to vampires before jumping to a name for their group. Russell voted for B.E.A.S.T. because he didn’t want strange look pointed at him when he they say B.I.G.T.IT.S. Overall talk of the court faded from their mind and the ringing bell ended the meeting all together and it became time to be a high school student again.

Late Afternoon- The Mall to the Bellow High Dorms Lounge Area

When school was out and instead of going back to the dorm like he tend to do, he actual went to the mall area. He had only one goal and that was to take a visit to the locate glasses store seeing that his current pair was slightly damage. Next time they might be unusable. He been lucky so far but spare pair was definitely a must. He browse through them trying different styles only to declare that he just didn’t look good with glasses… Contacts just didn’t seem very appealing either. He ended purchasing some cheap glasses, as cheap as he could find, with a similar look to his current one.

When Russell arrive back at the dorm he spotted Halberd there, it felt like he was always here when he entered. Sigmund was also about two rummaging through the kitchen. Ever since witnessing him attempting to make tea he felt like he had to watch him and make sure he doesn’t do anything that might cause a fire or be bad for his health. Silently he took a peek in and other than dumping a lot of rice, lot for just one person, into that pot there didn’t seem to be any problem from what he could tell. The fourteen year old decided to stay close just incase… But there was that tinge guilt along with a strange nervousness from the pass afternoon as he moved toward the couch. Russell remembered to greet Halberd before taking a sit next to him.

“Plans for the weekend? Anyone?” Sigmund popped out from the kitchen area, quickly chomped on an apple rather ravenously. When the freshman thought about it, he remembered him skipping breakfast this morning. Maybe his lunch was interrupt by there sudden meeting…? He decided to not question it; it was hectic last Court.

“I’m going to get a haircut.” Russell teased lock of his rough dark orange hair when he mention. Most of it was tucked under a cotton hat though the strands that weren’t aligned with his eyes were left alone to reach down his face and cheeks. “It’s gotten quite bothersome. I don’t have anything else planned.” He’d probably just do any homework he failed to finish. His grades weren’t falling but he keeping it maintained was difficult task.

Let's eat Grandma!
Let's eat, Grandma!
Commas saves lives.

Say hello to Rascal, he is a naughty little Articuno but he wants to be a true adventurer one day. Feed him lots of spicy berries and help him grow big and stronger.

During tests people look:
Up for inspiration
Down in desperation
Left and right for information

Lace stared at the boss man's face. "Just take it. Go." Shinai was gripping those forms like she just threw up. She glanced at Amissa while wiggling the form's from Shinai. "Shinai, did you write this up? Your handwriting is so teeny!" she said, her eyes scanning the pages. She started mumbling and after taking some steps back she went over to the office window. Lace had her hand on the blinds and looked up from the papers at Shinai as she pulled. "It's a little moody in here. There we go." She swamped the room with light and stepped back until she was shoulder-to-shoulder with the President. She held it up so they could both read and mouthed out the difficult words. This went on for a minute.

Lace nodded her head and threw the application across the desk. She whipped off her jacket across the chair to sit down and rolled up her sleeves. Gnawing on an ink pen with a confused expression, "This is at least three pages altogether! Where do I have to sign? I-- hold on," she shot a look back and flipped through the sheets with her pen spinning in her hand. Lace scooped up the papers and threw the pen across the ground in triumph as she handed him back the papers and washed her hands.

She was leaning back against the sink wiping off her face and hair with paper towels now messier than ever, she draped the rags around her neck. Lace's name was signed at the top and bottom of each sheet, front and back. "I've never been a part of a club before. Definitely have no idea what Student Council's about, “she said, picking lint of her shirt. “It’s gotta be a lot of fun. You see all sorts of things."

"You get to set new rules around the school, plan events, wear neat jackets, and escort girls around." Lace paused and scratched her hair. "That kinda stuff must keep you really busy, right? I mean, there can't be a lot of time for just you. She sat down at the seat near him and after pulling out some bit-size chocolate she pulled out two chairs, spun hers around, and pushed one his way. It's always been easier to just throw yourself at people, but she's never had an easy time keeping things going. "So what're you up to when you're not around at school? Halloween just passed." She folded her arms over the back and pushed a couple chocolates across the desk to him.

She could worry about the Court later tonight with the others.

"Sorry. I'm not being too personal, am I?"

On Army-Training Leave:

I'll be gone from Serebii/Internet from Sept 10th - Dec 15/16th. If you want to contact me, send a PM by the first of September. Coolio!

"This is just taking over our lives. Now we won't be able to go a single day without being reminded of it! And 10.30! Oh my god, that's an hour and a half of my night gone down the drain! I was making plans! It was going to be lovely! But instead... bloody Jones!" She sucked in air through her teeth and thought rapidly.

"Oh well, I can save this. I can totally save this. I can. It's just... god. So annoying."

She looked at her phone again, and quickly tapped out a response to Miyuki.

Jones? Seriously? I totes knew Wulfgard was hiding something, so obvs! 10.30? I'll try for 11.30, how's that? Love you xxxxxx
PS. I will never forgive you for ruining the moment I was having :D xxxxxx
PPS. Girls' Night is sooooo cancelled xxxxxx

Ciara slid the phone back in her pocket, "OK, so, I kinda promised Miyuki to do a Girls' Night thing, but I think it'd probably be easier if it was an Everyone Night thing... So yeah, I think I should maybe advertise it. Like now, before I forget. But for tomorrow, I think, because I have plans for tonight."

She pulled a sheet of red paper out of the mess on her desk, and wrote at the top in big letters:DORM COMMUNAL DINNER PARTY- CHINESE TAKEOUT!
(free food)- evening, 2nd November (that means tomorrow!)

But how would she get people to come and attend her party? Well, it was sort of like her birthday party, but saying it was her birthday party would probably mean that most people wouldn't come, because she hadn't exactly endeared herself to them so far. But now things would change. People always appreciated free food. And parties. Together, it was the logical equation to change peoples' opinions! And then she would be popular and get to push some poor ugly unpopular girl in glasses into a swimming pool, because that's what popular people did!... Or not. Because she was going to be a nice popular person.

After thinking for a few seconds, she wrote: You will have lots of fun!
Yeah, that would be good. Wait, she had to show how much fun people would have? Now how could she do that...?

You WILL have lots of fun.

There, now people would definitely know how much fun they would have and they would all gather to eat Chinese food! This advertisement poster was practically perfect in every way, if she did say so herself. Which she did. Obviously.

"This is practically perfect in every way," she said cheerfully to Joshua as she skipped out of the door.

When she reached the noticeboard in the lounge, she pulled the pin out from one of the other notices (eww, nobody cared about seeing some stupid band) and used it to attach her bright-red notice, proudly displaying it in the centre. Other people were in there, and she spent several seconds pointing at the poster and grinning slightly maniacally before quickly running back up the stairs and racing back into her room. Phew, he hadn't jumped out of the window or made a mess or done anything.

"Now, do you have anything urgent to attend to? Because otherwise, we have until 10.30, and I was thinking... maybe we could go out and get some baguettes, croissants, brioche etcetera and then watch that French film?"

She giggled and winked.

"Unless you have something really urgent. Like brain surgery or something, I don't know really but I completely and wholly sympathize. If you do. Um. I understand. I don't know. I'm crazy."

Snow laughed, turning his chair around to check to see if the program had caught the drums. “Well it's a nice beat anyhow. You could still base it on how you feel. Could you run that by again?”

“You sound like a monkey hyped up on Mad Bull,” Izzy said, after Ned had tried to play the drum part again.

“And what's wrong with that?” Ned asked, clearly enjoying himself.

Izzy thought about it, then shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. It's good stuff for keeping awake, but I don't drink too much of it or my hands get all jittery. Dangerous stuff around tools.” He then went off to a small fridge nearby to get some drinks.

Phil then grabbed the bass guitar. “I think I can do jittery hands!” he said, then started playing. First a familiar riff, but then trying to go off on its own inexpertly. It was an odd sound, but maybe it could be smoothed into something. “How's that?”

“Well we have to get a sound that we can reproduce,” Snow pointed out, looking over what the computer had recorded.

“Oh, well that could be tough,” Phil said, now trying a different way to make the bass sound 'jittery'. “Think I should try one of the the other guitars?”

“Might as well experiment with several, see how they sound,” Snow said. Looking over what the other two had played, he tried to play something that went along with those parts.

Then Izzy came by and left a tall soda can by him, apparently that Mad Bull Ned was talking about. “Nah, you have to go at it more like a hyperactive monkey, like the others,” he said teasingly

“What, and intentionally play bad?” Snow asked in mock horror. “Not a chance.” Then again, he was going slow while thinking about it. Maybe not thinking? He then tried to play what Phil had by ear, moving his fingers quickly over the keys.

“Yeah, let's play!” Ned said, and for a few minutes, they all tried to keep that hyperactive energetic melody intact, and form it at the same time.

Before long, Izzy cracked up laughing and put his hands over his head. “That was a beautiful disaster,” he said, grinning.

“Then we are on our way to being an awesome disaster!” Ned said, whirling the drumsticks over his head and promptly losing one.

Snow ducked to avoid getting hit by it, laughing himself. “Everyone has to start somewhere,” he said, saving that last bit. Maybe there was nothing salvageable in it. But it had been fun.

Izzy looked over the computer screen, so Snow let him mess with it a bit while he replayed some of the random disaster music. “You've got quite a few files in here,” he said. “What's this Aria here?”

“That's something I'm working on with Josh,” Snow said

“What's an aria?” Phil asked.

“It's an certain kind of song, usually dramatic, that can be found in operas and other places,” he explained, opening the Mad Bull; he might as well try it if Ned wanted to be writing a song about it. “Josh and I play that one on guitars.”

“Oh, so it's like a power ballad,” Phil said. “You could've just said that.

“Hey, think we can get him to play it with us?” Ned asked. “Or if he'd let just us. Because a power ballad would be an awesome piece to start with original stuff. As long as it's not an aria; that sounds girly.”

“We could ask,” Snow said, while Izzy went ahead and had the program play what they had written for Josh's Aria song (which didn't have it's own name, really). “It doesn't have lyrics at the moment. But, I'm sure Randy could sing something amazing with it.”

“Oh, it's that song,” Izzy mumbled to himself, as he heard it play. Which was a good sign on how well they were doing so far.

Since he wasn't sure how long the practice would go, he took out his phone and sent a text message to Josh. 'Hey, I'm at practice with the Crimson Beasts and we're thinking of turning the Aria song into a power ballad. You want to join in, or do you mind letting the band play it?'

Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 648/718 Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh complete!

As Halberd watched the tea kettle as it started to steam (ignoring any superstitions against watching water boil), he thought once more about the Black Cat Bandits, the boys who were much more than just his fellow gangsters. He remembered specifically their reaction when he mentioned that he was going to attend Bellow High in his senior year, that he was going to move far away from them. He had been able to pass his reason off as a better educational opportunity, and that at least made his parents supportive of his decision. And as for the Black Cat Bandits, he had made a promise to keep in contact with them. So that was good enough... right?

The tea kettle whistled, indicating the water was ready. Putting these thoughts aside for the time being, Halberd turned off the stove and started gathering teacups, arranging three of them on a tray after a quick head count of the lounge. After pouring out the tea, he made his way back over to one of the couches in the lounge. Soon afterward, much to his surprise, Russell joined him. At the sight of this, Halberd cast him a small smile, for he was glad to see Russell not being timid around him for once.

And just then Sigmund broke the ice with "Plans for the weekend? Anyone?" To which Russell replied about getting a haircut.

"Hmm," Halberd began to reply. "Well, as long as you like the way it looks afterward, then that's great." He personally thought Russell's hair looked better when it was uneven like that, but he also thought that might be a bias based on the other Black Cat Bandits' decisions to keep their hair relatively long.

"Oh, by the way," he continued, this time to both Russell and Sigmund, "I just made some tea, and there's enough for all three of us. Would you two like some?" He gestured to the tray he had just placed on the coffee table (tea on a coffee table, how funny) before them. While he was at it, he took a cup for himself. "As for my own plans for the weekend, well, I don't have anything much planned actually. I might wander around the city a bit, or perhaps get back in touch with my family. And probably catch up on homework as well. And then there's two Courts if the trend continues."

Every time he thought about the Court of Miracles, he likened it to a great war they were fighting against the Shadows, one that they could not escape lest they be doomed to a soulless existence. He had seen with his own eyes what happened to Terri. He knew the consequences of neglecting that the Court could cause any real harm. He may not have understood quite what it meant nor how it worked, but at least he recognised it as a threat. Perhapse a curse of some sort, as had been Black Cat Bandit Merlin's guess.

"Well, Sigmund," Halberd continued, lifting his teacup. "I'm sure Russell and I would love to hear your plans for the weekend as well, but first I'd like to propose a toast. I may not be a spiritual person, but I do believe that is good to have hope. So this toast is to the hope that we may triumph over the Court Miracles, whose existence looms as a shadow over our lives."

Feeling much better now, Halberd moved his cup over towards the centre of where the three were sitting, hoping the other two would do the same.

In a shocking twist of fate, Ciara smacked him with a sarcastic response before bemoaning their fate. She was most annoyed about losing a portion of her night. Yes, that was the headline in her eyes. But she had a point about how the Court was really taking over every aspect of their life now. That said, it was hardly just a hobby. When one fights to live, perhaps it's natural that fighting becomes one's life.

Joshua was a god-awful philosopher.

Ciara began texting her response to Miyuki, prompting Joshua to start musing, mostly to himself. "On the bright side, it looks like we'll have another ally in the Court, if nothing else. God knows what his Persona could be though. Something as forgetful as him maybe?"

She ignored this. "OK, so, I kinda promised Miyuki to do a Girls' Night thing, but I think it'd probably be easier if it was an Everyone Night thing... So yeah, I think I should maybe advertise it. Like now, before I forget. But for tomorrow, I think, because I have plans for tonight." She picked up a marker and some paper, and started scribbling something out. He had to admit, it seemed like a good idea. They'd all be together that night anyway for the Court at least.

A free Chinese takeout for everyone. For some reason, Joshua had the distinct feeling that his wallet was going to be crying. I am so going to be roped into paying for this... Wuh-tccch... Worst whip-crack ever. I should ask Jones for advice on that, he's mentioned owning one I think...

... Then again, maybe I should just stay away from that line of thought entirely.

Meanwhile, Ciara was finishing the sign. "You WILL have lots of fun." Seemed a little... forceful. Like it was an order to have fun. Sometimes he worried about her social skills. Practically perfect in every way, she said as she bounced out the door, leaving him alone in her room.

... Any other guy right now would be snooping in her drawers. Fortunately, I have more sense. In that case, I would definitely be better jumping out the window... He sat on her bed and gave a brief sigh. He was really starting to feel the pressure of the tension between them. Something was going to snap, and he wasn't sure what.

Ohhh my love, don't forsake me-, take what the water gave me- His phone this time. A text from Snow. Maybe he'd hit a breakthrough on the song, and wanted his help?

'Hey, I'm at practice with the Crimson Beasts and we're thinking of turning the Aria song into a power ballad. You want to join in, or do you mind letting the band play it?' Randy's band wanted to play Aria? Joshua wasn't sure if he was flattered or sceptical. Honestly, he should probably go and help them out a little...

"Now," Ciara was back, and he jumped at the sudden noise, "Do you have anything urgent to attend to? Because otherwise, we have until 10.30, and I was thinking... maybe we could go out and get some baguettes, croissants, brioche etcetera and then watch that French film?" She winked at him.

... Yeah, he wasn't going anywhere. He was determined to spend time with her today. She continued, "Unless you have something really urgent. Like brain surgery or something, I don't know really but I completely and wholly sympathize. If you do. Um. I understand. I don't know. I'm crazy." She finished so quietly. Yet again, he was seeing this change in her. A girl so shy and awkward at her core.

"It's your birthday after all. If you, for whatever reason, want to spend it with me, then who am I to say no?" He cast his eyes downward, still not wholly comfortable with everything over the last 24 hours. "Just... Give me a couple of seconds, need to send a text."

'Sorry buddy, I'm busy today. Maybe tomorrow after school?'

Originally Posted by scytherdude30
no no no you need an empoleon as your powerhouse da listen to me man I AM THE BOMB

Originally Posted by Zincspider

Yes, someone is getting 'killed'... HOORAY FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!....

Russell piped up first: "I'm going to get a haircut," with a further explanation on how it was getting in his way and that he didn't have any better ideas. Halberd gave his support, and Sigmund nodded along, remarking, "Yeah, better now than in a month or two when it starts really getting cold." He'd felt a bit of chill himself across the top of his head on the way back, himself. Hopefully his hair would grow out at least a little bit by winter. As Halberd made a note of his own plans - nothing huge and concrete - Sigmund tossed his apple cores and came around to the couch, where Halberd was setting down the teapot, sliding across the armrest into a corner seat.

The older student was proposing a toast, hoping that they would beat whatever the Court had up its sleeve.1 Of course, they were all still around to talk about it after more than two months, which was impressive enough, but now they knew that Apathy Syndrome was totally curable and exactly how to do it. A positive outlook was definitely something they could manage. They just had to keep on living and fighting, like they had already proven they could.

"Yeah - let's not let this thing get the better of us," he agreed, lifting his mug of tea2 to match Halberd's. The gesture almost looked like the classic three musketeers sign, until the three broke it off and started into their drinks, Sigmund downing half of his at once. This immediately turned out to be a terrible idea, as to be expected from pouring near-boiling water into one's mouth, causing him to spit it back out - mostly into his cup, though a small amount of the spray ended up on the table.

Sigmund cleared his throat, trying and failing to salvage his composure, before answering Halberd, "Dunno what I'm gonna do about the weekend, though. Got nothin' planned, just went home last week, so I'll probably just take this one as it comes." Taking a drink from his mug3, Sigmund leaned back in his chair. He was planning on doing something else, but he couldn't exactly remember what. Which, honestly, probably meant that it wasn't a huge deal either way.

At that moment, Ciara walked into the lounge, making a bee-line past the three and making a production of sticking a poster to the notice board. Then, just as quickly as she had come in, she disappeared back up the stairs. Curious, Sigmund took off his glasses briefly to try and read the poster from the couch. He mainly just caught a few words - Chinese takeout, free food, evening tomorrow, fun - but those were plenty. He'd definitely have to show up after -

Oh, that's what he wanted to do!

Jerking himself back forward, nearly spilling his drink for the second time and pushing his glasses back up, he added, "That's it - I was gonna go visit, ah, the girls in the hospital sometime in the next couple days. Probably tomorrow, before Ciara's thing. You guys wanna come?" He looked to Russell and Halberd in turn before setting his mug down and slid himself back over the armrest to return to his near-boiling rice.

1 Though Halberd said it much more eloquently.2 His interest in herbal tea had faded over the last two months, though he still appreciated that Halberd made a good cuppa.3 A much smaller sip this time.

I name thee Sonya the Butcher, slicer of genitals, maker of holes, and shooter of scrotums. By thy will shall true love find physical consummation as thy wacko brain does devote itself to bring about sexual joy to two mad lovers.

By the process of blowing out JP’s manhood with a shotgun.

As lovely as the thought was (and is it not the thought that counts...?) JP didn’t take too kindly to having his most precious thing blown out in a matter befitting a Saw movie and the shock almost made him forget that, for some reason, Sofiya apparently thought that he and Mana were some sort of couple. And, being unfamiliar with the process of “the homosex”, the girl took it upon herself to spit in the face of whatever maker she held sacred and gruesomely defy the body of one of the two teenage boys so the other could have some very explicit fun.

JP, however, failed to see it.
“MANAAAAAAAA!” he said as he jumped over multiple obstacles in the classroom. He approached Mana and, with all the grace in the world (not), pinned him to the wall.

“WHAT SICK PRANK IS THIS?”
JP dug his forearm further beneath the smaller boy’s chin, inadvertedly putting a little too much pressure over the kid’s throat.
“Don’t try to deny it, this has your doing written all over it. She thinks we’re gay and she wants to blow my balls off just so you can **** me! THE HELL MAN?”

JP regretted saying that loud almost immediately after he’d shouted it. He looked around the room and through the open doors where a number of passing students (along with whoever was left in the classroom) stood wide eyed staring at the two.

“Where the hell are you looking at? **** OFF!”

Most students cleared right away, but a few let out a burst of laughter before scramming away from JP’s incoming rage. Now embarrassed more than he was outraged, JP finally let go of Mana, telling him:

Phil and Ned took a small look at each other than began to laugh. Ned decided to speak up first, allowing Phil to bend over his drums in hysterics.

“Dude, let's put it this way. Snow get's more tail than you do. Hell, Randy gets more tail than you do, and he doesn't even get any.”

Deciding to join in on the fun, Phil picked his head up. “Like, totally man. At least Randy's has a girl who wants him. You have a girl who thinks you're an 'ok' way to pass the time.” Finished with their little observation, the twins exchanged a quick fist pound, and offered one to Snow as well.

“Just- Just get back to writing a song about poison.” Izzy mumbled, trying to get the subject off his 'Love' Life. “'Bout all that stuff is good for, more likely to kill ya than help ya...”

This sentence seemed to catch Phil's attention. He picked up his can of Mad Bull and squinted hard at the label, as if the action was hurting him.

“Wait, this stuff ain't good for you? But... it's got energy in it!”

“No, it's not. Just to start, the level it increases your heart rate to is downright dangerous.”

A spark seemed to emerge in Phil's brain. Looking at his face scrunch up you could practically feel the gears turning, knocking off years of rust and gunk from years of misuse. Namely, not being used at all Phil raised his drink and cleared his throat, before speaking once more with a mock British accent... or all he could muster, barely noticeable beneath his normal 'dude' front. Ned quickly joined in.

“Ned-”

“Yes, Phil?”

“Kickstart Your Heart was written after Nikki Sixx overdosed and was pronounced dead, before being revived with two adrenaline shots to the heart. I think I have an idea!”

“In all due respect, Sir Dude, I do not wish to overdose on Mad Bull tonight.”

“You mistake my intentions, Baron Von Bodacious, it simply made me realize we may write a song about Mad Bull... without writing a song about Mad Bull. Only on how you feel after chugging it!”

“Your genius knows no bounds, my brother! Then we won't be a commercial!”

“EXCELLENT!”
“EXCELLENT!”

“What's excellent? You guys that happy I'm late?”

In the excitement between the twins, Izzy hadn't notice the door to the back room open, and a breathless Randy walk in. He was more worked up that usual.

“We're writing a song about how it feels to drink Mad Bull!”
“Totally!”

“... This is what happens when I leave you two alone with the quiet guys for a few minutes isn't it?”

Randy shook his head then walked over to Izzy and punched him on the shoulder. The act, however, required Randy to take his hand out his pocket. And when he took his hand out of his pocket, a small plastic package slipped out. A small, square, plastic package. With the word 'Spartan' written clearly across it.

Randy froze in place looking down at it. His face grew red as Izzy, Phil, Ned, and Snow all looked down at his 'property'.

“I take it back, Izzy. Seems like Randy's getting more than Snow.”

WARNING!GM is prone to going for the throat. Poke at own risk. Continued poking or complaining in his presence may result in serious character injury or death. You have been warned.

Lace had been testing her partner's patience from the moment she sat across from him. The conversation grew as relaxed as it was going to get and every now and then Lace would glance and smile at Amissa, wishing to bring her in the banter. Lace was getting ready to demonstrate her views on what she really thought about the school's sugar-freesnacks when Amissa tapped Shinai on the shoulder. Lace shut up and slowly slid back in her seat as Shinai raised his finger to be quiet.

"You guy's goin' out to run some errands?" she said, ignoring his request. She slapped her hands on the desk and pushed out her chair. She had her bag slung over her shoulder and started to walk backwards to the door. She looked over to Shinai. "If it's cool with you, mind if I come in here again later? Just to talk about, whatever, you know?" Lace waved to the both of them and finally found the doorknob behind her. Just as she was about to disappear, her finger stuck back out and pointed to where she guessed Shinai was in the room. "We'll take more about that sugar-free stuff, alright? That's -" she popped her head in the room. "That's the one thing in this school that we are not going to change!" Finally the door closed. "Oh," she whispered from outside, "and I'll have my forms and stuff here for you tomorrow, 'kay? Thanks!"

Bellow High Dorms
Common Room - Entrance

Lace threw her bag to the side, completely missing the rack as she shut the doors behind her. She made her way over to the kitchen sink and was leaning back on the counter staring at the cupboards. "Today, we're having something special," she said, more to herself as she ran her hands over the counter. "Whatever it is, it's gotta be instant. I know that." Lace had her own personal plastic bag of goods in the fridge with her name across it in big permanent marker. She was ripping off the Styrofoam top that had served as a barrier for her next meal. "Ramen," she said, backing up pointing to the two cups sitting scared in the sink, "chicken-flavored!" They were quick, easy to make, and full of vitamins and protein, and, well -- the important ones anyway. She put them both in the microwave and carried a 2-liter bottle of Cream Soda sitting with her on the other side of the bar.

In between drinks she finally noticed that a few of the guys already made themselves comfortable. Sigmund and Halberd were there with Russell. The timer on the microwave went off, but Lace, still full of soda, just stared at them for another minute when jerked back around. She jumped up and got a tray by the refrigerator and placed her two cups of noodles, the drink, and an apple just 'cause. Closing the door with her heel she teetered her way over to the table close to Halberd when Sigmund piped up with an invitation.

Clarise and Terri? Tomorrow? "We're really going to go see 'em?" she asked Sigmund. "It's been forever! I'll go!" Lace was just about to set her tray down when she stopped herself and looked over to Halberd. "Oh, sorry! Hey, Russell... Halberd, mind if I sit with you guys?" she nodded to her steaming cups of shriveled chicken, "I'll share some with ya if you want."

On Army-Training Leave:

I'll be gone from Serebii/Internet from Sept 10th - Dec 15/16th. If you want to contact me, send a PM by the first of September. Coolio!

“Aaaaand, done. And not a minute too soon. The kids should be arriving any minute, right?”

Jones stepped back from the field and took in his and Garret's handiwork. They had only gotten out there a short while ago, but they'd already pulled out all the practice dummies that Jones used for archery practice... as well as throwing a javelin at here and there.

“Yeah, ten thirty... it's quite a bit earlier than usual, ya know.”

“It's necessary. I have to see what they can do, and what I can do to help.”

“Well, don't work them too hard we-”

“We don't need them gasping for air when fighting for their lives, yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“When they all get here, have them tell me how they fight. I'll go from there.”

WARNING!GM is prone to going for the throat. Poke at own risk. Continued poking or complaining in his presence may result in serious character injury or death. You have been warned.

OOC: I couldn't have picked a better time to post!
IC:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Halberd
Bellow High Commons

A visit to the hospital, eh? Halberd kind of liked that idea. He hadn't seen Terri in forever, and though he didn't know Clarise that well, it might be nice to visit her too. But more importantly, he liked the idea of hanging out with a group of people in general. One of Halberd's worries before coming here to Bellow High, after all, had been feeling detached from the school and not being able to make any friends there. When things first started out, it had been this way, with him living in an apartment just off campus and remaining on the computer in communication with the other Black Cat Bandits in his free time. But then the Court of Miracles had to come in and change everything. Though most of those changes were negative, it did give Halberd an excuse to be more involved with the school, as well as an excellent opportunity to make new friends. Here were two very good friends to Halberd sitting right here with him, having tea with him. How nice.

Make that three, actually. For just then, Lace entered the room. Immediately she made a beeline for the kitchen area, preparing some instant ramen noodles and grabbing a big bottle of soda. Yup, sounded like the typical Lace all right. Heck, he was surprised that she could still be hungry after having just had all that pizza and such for lunch a couple of hours ago. Despite her being a third or even a fourth his size, she probably ate just about as much as he did on a typical day, except most of it was junk food (but hey, at least she brought an apple this time!). It probably wasn't a problem though--for now, just another thing on Lace's crazy characteristics list.

"Oh, hello Lace!" Halberd greeted just after she had already sat down. "I was wondering if you'd join us. And thanks for offering the soup, but even though I had to skip lunch today because of that meeting, supper will be in just another hour or so anyway. And besides, I have no more tea to exchange for it. Pirates like me'd be stickin' to ye olde barter system whene'er thar be no good treasure to loot," he decided to add for the fun of it. After all, the most significant time he had had with Lace recently was on Halloween where he was a pirate for a day.

"Anyway," he continued, this time to everyone present, "I like the idea of visiting Terri and Clarise. Ciara's party on the other hand... Well, on one hand it sounds fishy to me and on another I don't really like Chinese food, but on the third hand if I had one, I have not yet had a proper opportunity to wish Ciara a happy birthday, and this even may be the only time I get to see her outside of Court anytime soon. So I guess I'm going."

After Halberd finished the last of his tea, he got up and brought the tray back to the kitchen, where he also grabbed some paper towels to bring back to the table to clean the spilled tea up with. As with his appearance, he liked to keep things in his immediate environment clean whenever possible. And speaking of his own appearance...

"I'll be back in a bit," Halberd added as he was cleaning up. "I would like to get out of this uniform as soon as possible."

Halberd had never been a fan of school uniforms, especially since this had been his first school in which he had to wear one. And also because white and blue weren't really his colours. It was his opportunity to go back to the old style of dress he preferred when he was in his tweens, with a woolly sweater and baggy shorts and knee-high socks, but nevertheless, in most of his school days here, the first thing he did afterward was change out of his uniform. Especially since with his long braided hair, it would make him look like a gigantic schoolgirl with overly hairy legs whenever he was out in public. Today was probably the day he had been in his uniform the longest, for he was thinking so much about what was discussed at fencing practice earlier that he forgot to change when he first got here.

On the way back to his room, Halberd passed by the door to Joshua's room, wondering whether he was in there doing homework or something, or on another date with Ciara. Knowing how Ciara was, it was probably the latter. He heaved a sigh. If only that stupid relationship between the two of them hadn't gotten in the way, he would have a much easier time talking to both of them. Every time he thought of that relationship (if it even was an offical one), he wondered what they could possibly see in each other, how deep their relationship really was. It seemed to him that it was mostly all fun and frills, but was there a deeper component to it? He could only wonder.

And he wondered, all the way until he was back in the common room in his proper red and black attire, kilt and all. The only thing he didn't bother changing was his socks, for he liked the way the navy blue trim looked above his boots. Except he didn't put on his long coat yet; he typically saved that for an evening outing or the Court of Miracles nowadays. It had become his battle coat, pretty much. Though he did put on a maroon pullover sweater as well, in light of the somewhat chilly weather outside. And just for the heck of it, he brought his physics homework down with him as well. Nowadays the homework from that class was his favourite to finish, as he always dreaded writing papers and trying to remember historical events on the other side of the world. He just had to hope Ciara wouldn't come back anytime soon to make another scoffing remark about his thing with physics, like she had done on their first training session with Wulfgard-sensei.

After no more than about five minutes, Halberd was in his seat in the common room again, though he probably missed a bit of conversation already. After a quick check of his planner to see which problems were assigned that day, he opened his physics textbook and laid it on the armrest beside him, pulling out a notepad and a scientific calculator as well.

"I do apologise," he mentioned to everyone, "but from now until supper is pretty much the only time I'll have to do homework tonight, as I have plans to be out and about tonight before Court. But hey, maybe tomorrow if we have time leftover between the hospital and Ciara's party, we can maybe hit the mall again or something. We'll figure it out I guess."

And then he started working on the first homework problem, regarding projectile motion. For a second he thought how appropriate it would be if the Shadows they fought in tonight's Court specialised in firing projectiles as well. Especially if he would be too busy attempting to calculate their horizontal and vertical velocities and approximate landing positions to hurry up and fight the Shadow already.

Band practice for the Crimson Beasts went on longer than usual, but it had been one of the most fun sessions so far. Randy wasn't being broody and it seemed like they'd at least get a loud and energetic song as a result. Afterwards, they had gone out to eat together and argue (in a jesting manner) about what the lyrics for the song-about-Mad-Bull-but-not-really should be. It might have gone into the evening, but three of them needed to be back to school for another practice of a very different nature.

On getting back to the dorms, Snow made sure he was prepared for tonight. He had a couple of hours to kill. For a moment, he thought of just taking a nap or doing something else. Maybe going down to chat with the others. But he needed to keep up with his schoolwork, and he hadn't even gotten around to the studying for the Court he wanted to do. There was too much to do and not enough time to do it all in. He opted to study for that time.

As it was getting close to ten-thirty, Snow took his things and headed out with some of the others to meet up with Wulfgard and Testa at the school. He noticed a new paper on the corkboard, a note about a dorm dinner party tomorrow. That sounded like it could be fun (although the fact that it was on red paper with big lettering and that it insisted that it would be fun in a way that suggested having fun would be enforced as mandatory, that was ominous). He'd have to make sure to be here on time for that.

The stadium was set up like usual for their practices, today with various target dummies set out (including one with a spear completely through its torso). Snow wondered what he should do tonight. Usually he just worked on his running or boomerang; it wasn't easy for him to spar with one of the others. But as they came in, Wulfgard told them to talk with Testa.

He wanted to know how they fought. “Mostly I hang around in back and heal others,” Snow answered. “That's what my Persona is best at; I can even wake up those that have been knocked out now. I do have this boomerang, which goes through most Shadows but isn't that strong.”

Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 648/718 Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh complete!

After the film had finished, the two of them sat and talked for a while. Time seemed to completely melt away, until a point where Ciara casually checked her phone and was shocked to notice that it was already 9.45pm. It felt like it had been hours... or was it minutes? It had been one of those happy, forgetful times where imperatives and the outside world had been completely cast aside. Sadly, when she told him he had said that he had to go but he would see her later at the stadium. Obviously. But oh well. It was better that they had noticed rather than arrive late. That would give a wrong impression.

She lay on the bed for a while, just thinking contently about how nicely the day had gone. Far better than she would have thought even a few weeks earlier. Maybe things really were on the up-and-up. It was better to think that they were, better to think that than wallow in bleak depression. These nights just seemed to be getting worse. She had tried to move past last night's events, but was still finding it more difficult than she was expecting. Ugh. She needed a rest.

No, she wasn't going to think like that. Tonight would be fun. But first, she would need to get dressed ready to go out on the town. She wouldn't dress out of vanity, or to prove anything to anyone. She was going to move past the whole intimidation and cold sarcasm thing, and try to be kind. Indirectly, of course. But still. Every little step would help her become more.... well, more something. A better human being, how about that. As good a target as any.

As she pulled various items out of her wardrobe, she thought about what she liked, and not about what would be the most eye-catching or present a certain image.

After a certain amount of searching around, she got together a decent ensemble and dressed herself extra-carefully. She wanted to look nice today. A blue long-sleeved blouse (buttons done up to the top, for once), red-and-pink spotted neck-scarf, worn but strong jodhpurs and finally a smart sensible pair of shoes went on and were quickly assessed as appropriate. She found that she looked very posh and probably like a schoolmistress, but the look actually suited her far more than she could have dreamed. Plus, it was far more comfortable than some of the things she had squeezed into in the past. Her make-up was gentle colours, more muted than previous choices. Light blue nails, faded pink lips... it felt like she was almost making a new her. In a good way.

Walking out of the door, she felt as if she was making the steps of a better person than the one who had stumbled in in the middle of last night.

As she walked down the stairs, she pondered going to check up on Joshua, but decided against it. Everyone deserved some alone time. They were going to meet up at the stadium later anyway. No point now.

When she arrived at the stadium, far earlier than she would have liked otherwise, Wulfgard pointed her to Jones, to tell him about how she fought. She looked at a point over his shoulder, as looking directly at him would probably make her brain break at some level due to the combination of the mundane and sheer weirdness, and recited mechanically, "I'm one of the main heavy-hitters, I would probably say. Like, direct attacks, not magic. I suppose it's difficult to imagine without my Persona. It's very... capable. Personally, I favour agility and evasiveness. Best offence is a good defence. I have butterfly swords most of the time, but I'm trained at hand-to-hand using acrobatics just in case I get disarmed."

It was time to suit up for the Court once again. Honestly, it was getting sad now. When was it all going to end? Oh, no time for all this woe-is-me crap. It was time for action soon. An early meet up too, but why? Extra training? A talk from Jones? Oh Lord, a lecture at that time of night would probably kill him. Unless it was about history. Or theatre. He liked those things. Wishful thinking of course, but still... He pulled on a thin sweater and a black leather jacket over it. His tan one had been torn apart by last night's shadow bear. He made a private note to replace it this weekend... Then again, why bother? If the shadows had torn it so easily, what protection was it offering? What protection could a simple leather jacket offer him? ... What kind of protection could he offer? He shook that thought off. He was useful damn it. He was one of the only ones with a full-party healing spell, not to mention his ability to literally protect others with Shiva's magic... He needed to shake off this doubt about himself. Only by recognising his strengths would he be able to develop them, right?

Well, that was what he was going to keep telling himself at any rate. For now, he just decided he was going to stay away from things with stupidly sharp claws. Probably good life advice anyway, all things considered. Bears = bad. He was amazed he hadn't been following this anyway.

Joshua really wasn't getting anywhere with his train of thoughts tonight. His brain was still just scrambled. He'd just have to sleep on it...

---

Stadium

Once down at the usual meeting place, Joshua grabbed his usual saber from Wulfgard's van. Apparently the reason Jones had called them here early was to see how they all fought. Seemed reasonable, if he was going to be fighting alongside them. "Well, I prefer to hang back and support the team with my Persona's magic skills. I have a strong healing spell, but I can fall back on my swordplay when I need to defend myself. I don't have as much offensive power or skill as some of our other comrades though..." he admitted, a little sheepishly. He acknowledged his strengths, but not to be aware of his limits? Suicide...

Next, he made his way over to Snow, to apologise for letting him down. "I was busy, that's all. Helping Ciara celebrate her birthday. Couldn't exactly leave her high and dry, you know?" He scratched his head and averted his gaze. "So what ended up happening?"

Originally Posted by scytherdude30
no no no you need an empoleon as your powerhouse da listen to me man I AM THE BOMB

Originally Posted by Zincspider

Yes, someone is getting 'killed'... HOORAY FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!....

Walking into the kitchen, Sigmund passed one Lace Condor going in the exact opposite direction. Jury's out on how he'd missed her coming in - probably some combination of routine and that he was focused on their toast. Hmm, toast did sound good. But rice first - then he'd see if he was still hungry.

Oh, hey, toast.

Well, a toasted bagel, at least - left right by the toaster. Looks like it'd been sitting out since breakfast. Probably abandoned, then. His now. Sigmund stuffed one half in his mouth all at once - stale, but totally edible. Still a drop in the bucket. How working people managed to totally fast for an entire month way back when was totally beyond him. Must've been a tougher breed of people back then. The rice was tough, too - could use another couple minutes. In the meantime, maybe get it some sauce or something.

He turned around, and what should he get but a face full a' Lace? The redhead zipped by again, nabbed a few items from the microwave and fridge, then zipped right back out of the room carrying more items than she had hands. Standard for her. And as distracting as always, too - whatever he had turned to go grab, it had already left his mind. Most likely something for his food or something. Which was probably done by now. Taking a spoonful, it looked pretty soaked and pretty hot. Well, that was the point of boiling it, so close enough. A quick strain into a serving bowl, add a spoon and a liberal drizzle of hot sauce, and toss the dishes in the washer1, and he was right back in the living room with the others just in time to hear a few words of assent.

"Cool. Club ends for me at five-thirty tomorrow, so I guess I'll meet ya there as close to six as I can," he suggested, plopping down in a table chair. "That oughta leave time to get back for Ciara's shindig if you wanna do that." Of course, he wasn't sure that getting back in time was any worry - most of the group was a bit uneasy around Ciara anyway, and he couldn't really claim to be much different given her attitude2. Still, they were probably going to be around the dorms tomorrow night, so there was no reason not to give it a shot.

Halberd excused himself to get changed, prompting Sigmund to admit that, "The man's got a point," and throw his jacket and dress shirt over the back of the chair. First time he'd been out of those since before class, and it felt refreshing. Doubly so because he was now free to shovel oversized spoonfuls of rice down his gullet without abandon. Which he did. And so the rice was already half-devoured when Halberd came down the stairs, leaving Lace to chat with Russell in the meantime.

Time kept passing, as it always did - a few people stayed up in the common room to do homework and chat and the like. Sigmund wasn't one of them. He talked idly for a while while he still had food, and afterwards disappeared up into his room to get changed into more appropriate attire. A worn-through pair of canvas pants, a black sweatshirt vest and a thick white shirt, plus sturdy gardening boots and minus his glasses. The same outfit he'd been wearing to the Court of Miracles for some time - it had stood up well so far, and the individual components were easy to replace when they got ripped through.

He gave himself just enough time to knock out a writing assignment due the next day3 and tend to the garden on his windowsill one last time. The latter felt more like spinning his wheels than anything. His plants were already receding - there was no way that they would last the weekend outside. He'd have to figure out something or dump them. But he'd cross that bridge later. It was already way past dark, and he needed to get going. Throwing a maroon track jacket on and a bag over his shoulder, he walked out of the apartment, giving the others each a wave in turn.

It's that time again.

Bellow High Stadium [Thursday Night]

In all honesty, Bellow High having its own sports stadium always seemed weird to Sigmund. The other area high schools mostly just used multipurpose fields with old bleachers or, in West's case, borrowed from the nearby community college. That was kind of an apples-and-oranges thing, though - North didn't have student dorms, either. Well, if they could afford to basically build a boarding school in the middle of the city, then they could afford to give it a proper sports arena, he supposed. And put it all on top of a nest of monsters.

Eugh.

Back to thoughts less terrifying, tonight's meeting was pretty early by most accounts. No surprise there - the teachers probably were going to fix them up with some new strategery now that everyone knew what was going down. Sure enough, before Sigmund had even gotten there, Wulfgard had already set the place up with dummies and archery targets, and Jones was interviewing some early arrivals about how they fit into the group as far as fighting went. Probably the best way to bring him up to speed.

...how long had Mr. Jones been in on this, again? Well, he was here now, and he was calling for Sigmund. Tossing around ideas for something clever to say, he strolled toward the teacher while rummaging through his duffel bag for his gauntlets in the middle of all the towels padding them. Of course, doing three things at once almost always ends in none getting done well, and so it took until around the time he hit a witty opening to finally pull out one of his gauntlets and realize that he had slowed his pace to a crawl. Immediately picking it back up, he put himself in about as serious order as he would get after that and took his turn in front of the history teacher.

"Pretty straightforward. I hit things. Sometimes I hit things with fire. Magic helps me hit things harder," he stated. Then, jokingly, he added, "Well, there's a bit more to it than that, but that's the idea. I pretty much do close-range grappling, and my Persona packs fireballs and beefs up my strength. I usually end up in front-ish, keep the bigger shadows held back. That kinda thing."

When Jones was done talking with him, Sigmund wrapped up his hands and strapped on his gauntlets, punched the air a few times for good measure, and started going through kata forms. All the while, he kept one eye on the door in case JP joined them for the first time in weeks.

1 Leaving a dirty kitchen would be an invitation for Mama O. to chew him out.2 The "statue" of Theresa from last night was the worst offender to date, and all but confirmed to be her work.3 A page and a half opinion essay on school uniforms. Not too nasty.